


Her Lion (Haven)

by TheMightyZan



Series: Nell and Cullen [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4274835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyZan/pseuds/TheMightyZan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one shots (in no particular order) about Inquisitor Tirnel Lavellan and her Commander, Cullen Rutherford.</p>
<p>Prepare for awkwardness and sarcasm.</p>
<p>All of these stories are set in Haven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. For Luck

"What about you?"

The question was met with silence, her face turning away because she didn’t want to give voice to the answer that they both knew. It wasn’t hard to agree to sacrifice herself for the others. It was the right thing to do, and as a future Keeper she knew the importance of sacrifice for the many. That didn’t mean, however, that she really wanted to talk about it.

"Perhaps you will surprise it… find a way."

She gave a brief, silent laugh at that and looked back at him. “Maybe.”

She herded the others that were staying with her to the door, murmuring promises that she would make sure they were as far away as possible before she fired the trebuchet.

"Herald." His voice stopped her before she could follow them outside, and she turned to face him again, curiosity writing itself over her expression.

"You need to make sure you keep its attention until we are above the tree line."

She nodded, her mind already on what was to come.

"If we are to have a chance- if you are to have a chance- make sure that thing hears you.”

She nodded again, but managed this time to focus long enough to see his face fall. She didn't want to go out this way, with someone already mourning her loss when it hadn’t even come yet.

"Commander."

It was his turn to look curious, his body half turned away from her, and his gaze not meeting her own.

"Yes?"

She trotted the short distance between them, her hands coming up to clutch at the fur of his over tunic. She didn’t give him a chance to think, didn’t give herself a chance for it either before she raised to her toes and pressed her lips to his.

It was chaste by even the most innocent of standards, but he jerked at the contact. In the seconds that it lasted it was only in the last few that she felt his hands come up to her arms and tighten.

She pulled back even as he leaned into her, a smile breaking over her face. “For luck. Or because I refuse to die without a kiss from a handsome man. Either way you want to look at it.”

He stared wide eyed at her, his hands flexing into her flesh a moment before they fell away. “For luck than.”

She nodded and stepped away from him, enjoying the way his cheeks had been burnished to a dark red. “See you on the other side.” Whether she meant in this life or the next was left up for interpretation, and she hurried out of the Chantry without another word.

* * *

 

Later, much later, after the explosion of fire, and Corypheus, and her desperate hike through the snow, she was dimly aware of being scooped up, words of thanks echoing around her.

Whatever she was being held against was hard, metal she assumed, and ice cold against her side, but her head was pillowed against warm, ticklish fur, so she couldn’t complain. Not that she had the energy for it even if she had wanted to.

She opened bleary eyes enough to see a haze of red at her side, and Cassandra’s concerned face. Following the sound of a voice issuing orders she realized that she was being held by Cullen, his face set in tense lines as he walked with her towards the fires of the camp.

She couldn’t help the slightly delirious, and certainly goofy smile that stretched her face, even as she heard a croak of a laugh slip from her throat.

"Seems it was lucky after all." The words were hoarse and half mumbled, but they caught the Commander’s attention, and he glanced down at her long enough to assess the cuts she could feel on her face.

"So it was."

She smiled again, her head falling more heavily onto his chest before the darkness reclaimed her.


	2. Attraction

"I get to work with you?"

The question was blurted, almost against her will, but she couldn’t help the smile that blossomed with it.

"I, uh- yes?"

She wasn’t sure if the Commander’s response was a question or not, but her smile widened at it none the less.

"Oh, good. I’ve always enjoyed getting to spend time with handsome men in armor."

She watched as the blonde man blushed, his eyes searching out a spot on the wall and his hand coming up to rub at his neck. She thought she caught a smile of his own as he gave a slight cough and groped for words.

"You flatter me, My Lady."

Oh, I’d like to do much more than flatter you, she thought, amused at her own turn of thoughts. It had been a long time since she had found anyone attractive. “I look forward to the chance to flatter you even more, Commander Cullen.”

His blush darkened, and he let out a low laugh as he looked back to her for a moment. It seemed as if he wanted to say something else, but Cassandra’s voice, laced with an exasperation that seemed constant since Nell had met her, cut off any reply he might have had.

"If you don’t mind, Herald. There are other introduction to be made."

"Of course," she replied automatically, her smile never lessening. She shifted her attention as the Seeker made introductions to the Spymaster and Ambassador, but her mind stayed on the red and gold man that stood directly before her.

Oh yes, she was looking forward to getting to know him better.


	3. Distraction

She hated being in the war room. Being there meant that she was having to listen to reports, and help decide on who to let send people where. All the while knowing that anytime something messed up it would be her fault because she was the one who told the others what to do.

She had been groomed to lead a clan, know the old tales, find the lost artifacts. The Inquisition was… bigger. Like she was responsible for 100 clans, and all of them just went along with her opinion.

It was terrifying.

So she hated the war room, and preferred when she was out in the field because then she could deal with small problems, one on one, and that was much easier to handle.

Too bad that she couldn’t be there now.

She bit at the nails of her thumb and forefinger as she studied one of the requests for assistance, only half listening as the others discussed how they would each try to handle the situation. The Teryn of Highever wanted representation for, well, something they were doing to honor the late Divine. She would probably let Cullen send an honor guard. There was no point in listening to the other suggestions.

Thinking to cut off the discussion she glanced up, and her mind went abruptly blank as her gaze landed on her Commander’s face.

His eyes were fixed on her mouth and the hand that played there.

It made her smile, a slow grin around her fingers that had Cullen looking up at her and then quickly away.

She heard Josephine saying his name, a question after he hadn’t responded to her before, and she had to hold back a laugh as he stuttered a reply.

Well, maybe she had been wrong. Maybe the war room wasn’t too terrible after all.


	4. Assumptions

"What were you thinking? Turning loose mages with no over-site, the veil is torn open!"

The question was shot at her as she and Dorian joined Cassandra and the Advisors, and she couldn’t help the frown that tugged at her face upon hearing the words. “Mages deserve freedom.” She stated it simply and waited for the argument that she was sure would come.

Cullen didn’t disappoint.

"Freedom has nothing to do with this. Without the veil to help there is nothing that is stopping the mages from being overrun by demons."

"Like I have been? Or Solas? Or Vivienne, or any of the dozens of mages that are already here?"

He gave a sigh and when he spoke again his voice was placating. “You’re being idealistic if you think that only good can come of this.”

She wanted to punch him. For the first time since she had met him weeks ago she wanted to bloody his lip instead of kiss it, which was surprisingly refreshing after the last few days.

She was so preoccupied with it that she almost missed when he turned to Cassandra and asked her why she had let such a thing happen. While she appreciated that the Seeker seemed to approve of her actions, or, well, not completely condemn them, she was annoyed that he would even say such a thing.

She stepped forward and shoved a finger into the metal of his chest, earning a surprised glance. “She couldn’t have stopped me anyway. You all tell me to make decisions, tell me to do what I think is right, but then you’re going to turn around and condemn my choices?” She stepped back, not waiting for an answer. “The rebel mages will be our allies and equal partners. If you don’t like it, leave. Or find someone else to do your grunt work.”

She turned to leave and almost ran smack into Vivienne, who had come out of her corner at all the shouting.

"You know, we could simply start to train more Templars. That would handle any problems that arise."

"We are not training more Templars," she ground out, her anger increasing with the first enchanter’s words. "Believe it or not, mages have been able to go their whole lives without turning into abominations without Templar oppression."

"How would you know, my dear? The Dalish only allow three mages per clan, do they not? What happens to the others?"

"Don’t presume to know anything about my clan!" She shouted the words, her temper lost to the differing opinions around her, all willing to condemn before giving a chance. "You know nothing about them. There are ass Dalish just as there are ass Shemlen. I came from a clan with 6 mages. 6 out of 30. Not a single one was sent to fend for themselves. I wasn’t even given to another clan as their First until I was 15, years after my magic manifested. Even my clan now has more than just the three. You know nothing."

She felt a hand close over her arm and realized that she was shaking, her words still echoing through the high ceilings above them. She looked back to see Dorian, understanding on his face. He didn’t even bother saying anything to the others, simply slid his hand over her neck and wrapped his arm around her shoulders before steering her out of the Chantry. “I need your help finding a place to put my things. I will need my own bed if I am to be staying.”

"You’re staying?" She managed to keep her voice level as she asked the question, her hopes lifting at the thought.

"Well, it seems you could use the backup, and I am more than willing to stand behind you, the view is lovely."

She smiled at the statement and started to reply when there was a discreet cough behind them. They both turned to see Cullen standing at a respectful distance from them, his hands locked at the small of his back. “Herald, if I might speak with you privately a moment.”

She scowled, but Dorian bowed and stepped away from her. “I have no problems sharing her.” He glanced down at her face and offered a reassuring smile. “Come and find me when you have the time, I’ll be around.”

She stared at the ex-Templar as Dorian disappeared down the path, unsure if she really wanted to hear what he had to say, but when he motioned towards the open door of a nearby house she sighed and proceeded him through the doorway.

She waited until he had closed the door with a soft click before speaking, her voice laced with the returning remnants of her anger. “Are we going to have a problem, Commander?”

She saw him sigh, his shoulders lifting and falling before he turned to face her. “No. No, of course not. I simply wanted to apologize. The things I said… they were unworthy of me. I didn’t mean to make it seem as if I had a problem with the mages being here. I don’t. I do not doubt that they are here to help, but they are not all like you, they are not all so strong. I am simply concerned. I want to make sure that everyone is safe, the mages included. Templars can abuse their power, but they can also keep order when others might lash out.”

She felt her anger leave her as he spoke. It left her feeling empty and slightly cold. Of course he would feel that way, he knew nothing else.

"They cannot prove themselves, Commander, if they are never given the chance."

He nodded and looked out the window. “I understand that, but we cannot also assume that none will fall.”

It was probably the best she would get. “Of course they will, but do you think that the others would simply let them run rampant. Let them govern themselves. Give them the chance. If it all goes to shit you can yell at me about it later.”

He smiled, sort of, in reply, the scarred side of his lip tilting up before he looked back over to her and offered a slight bow. “I will defer to your judgement. You have yet to steer us wrong.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out at that. “Give it time, Commander. I have not yet begun to show you all how very much I am capable of messing up.”

He simply nodded and reached over to open the door again. “I will keep that in mind. I did have a request however.”

"Oh?"

"I need to go help the mages settle in. I was hoping you would join me. It might help things go a bit more smoothly."

She paused before stepping through the door, the enjoyment of his nearness reinstating itself. “I would enjoy anything that allowed me more time with you, and making sure that you don’t get set on fire.”

"Yes," he mumbled, pleased embarrassment clear on his face. "It should be interesting to say the least."


	5. Annoyance

"Having trouble, Commander?"

The question was asked with a lilting laugh, and he looked up from where he had been watching his feet to see the Herald walking backwards in front of him.

"Pardon?" He mentally winced at how out of breath he sounded, and could tell by the widening of her grin that she heard it also.

"You look a bit winded. Wouldn’t want the soldiers to think you were out of shape, would you?"

The question annoyed him, as he was sure it was meant to. It wasn’t that he wasn’t in shape, he was of course, he refused to be one of those commanding officers who let themselves go simply because they could, but fighting and walking up mountains in full armor were very different things.

"Of course not. I’m fine, My Lady."

"Your face is very red."

He scowled at her, and worked on regulating his breathing into a more relaxed pattern. She wasn’t helping,

"And you’re frowning."

He had a very real moment of seeing himself grabbing her arm and throwing her into one of the snow dunes that surrounded them, it would be an amusing way to get her to be quiet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with the gossip it would cause though. It was all well and good for her that she had probably spent most of her life walking for days, but it did nothing to help him. And it only stung more knowing that she spent every free moment she could find napping.

She shouldn’t be allowed to be able to sprint around on a mountain like she was some sort of goat.

His thoughts swirled darker a moment before her voice cut through to him again.

"If you need to rest-"

"I’m fine," he ground out, interrupting her. He would curse Andraste herself before he admitted to wanting to stop and rest.

She laughed at that, the sound swirling around him before being lost to the open sky, and turned so that she was facing the right way. She paused a moment until they were side by side, and she could smile up at him with a friendliness that made him annoyed with himself for snapping at her.

Even if she deserved it.

"I can help keep your mind off the walk if you like. We still have a ways to go yet."

Part of him wanted to tell her that he was just fine on his own, and that she could take her distractions elsewhere, but another, far bigger, part of himself liked the way their arms brushed with every few steps.

"And how do you plan on doing that."

"Why, by telling you a story of course. I’ve trained to be a Keeper after all. I know lots of stories."

He couldn’t help smiling at the words, his gaze moving back to the terrain in front of them and the seemingly endless snow and rocks.

"Alright, but it had better be a long one. I don’t think we’re finding shelter any time soon."

She laughed again, and he looked back at her in time to see her give a nod. “That, I can do.”


	6. A Walk

"Do you want to go on a walk with me?"

He turned at the voice, surprisingly close, and came face to face with the Herald. Well, face to top of leather covered head.

He focused his attention down and couldn’t help the startled laugh that slipped past his lips at the sight of her.

She was wearing a coat that was obviously made for someone of human proportions, and more than likely male because she was lost in the bundle of it. She had it bunched together and tied with a cord at her waist, but the hem still dragged at the ground, and her hands were nowhere near the ends of the sleeves.

The leather he had originally seen was a fur lined hat that was pulled low over her brow.

He tried to cough over the laugh but could tell it was already too late when she shrugged. “I know I look ridiculous, but it was all they had, and it is cold!” She pulled at her collar and sent him an amused smile. “So is that a yes or a no to the walk?”

"I appreciate the offer-"

"You have been out here since dawn. It’s not going to hurt you to take a break."

It was a surprise that she knew what he had been doing, but a pleasant one. Plus, he had been working extra hours trying to get everything ready for the mages who would be there in a few days and a walk might help the headache that had steadily been getting worse.

"Alright."

He spoke to one of the present lieutenants and then followed her out of the tangle of fighters that he had been watching. She didn’t say anything for the first few minutes that she lead him down one of the snow covered paths, her hands tucked deep into the pockets of her coat, as the sounds of fighting drifted into the distance behind them.

When they had rounded a bend, and the village was lost to the distance she stopped, her face tilting up to his. “Are you alright?”

He blinked at her, confused. “My Lady?”

"You look like you’re in pain."

Had it been that obvious? He had thought he hid it better. “It is just a headache. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

"I’m not concerned. I am just curious as to whether you will let me help you."

He supposed she meant with magic, and started to tell her no, but something about the ‘not concern’ in her face gave him pause. She had searched him out and then offered privacy before asking. Plus, he would have to head back immediately if he turned her down, while saying yes would mean a few more minutes in her company.

Not that he was wanting to spend time with her.

He didn’t let himself think about it, instead he simply nodded his head.

She studied him a moment before reaching out and taking one of his hands, tugging at it until he let her pull him to an outcrop of rocks. Settling onto one of the flatter ones, he watched as she removed her gloves and rubbed her hands together.

"Is this why you wanted me to come walking with you?"

She gave a hum of agreement before reaching out to place her hands on either side of his face. “Well that and I wanted to spend time with you.”

He could feel the magic that had started coming from her hands, and raised a brow in question. “You… You wanted to spend time with me?”

"Yes."

He felt his cheeks heat, and wondered if he was blushing or if it was part of what she was doing. “Why?”

"I think you’re pretty. I’d like to know if you are interesting under all that attractiveness, or if you’re simply the type I’d tumble into bed with and not care what happened to you the next morning."

A wave of warmth eased through his head, causing his eyes to drift shut in appreciation as it chased away the ache. “Are you always so blunt, My Lady?”

When she replied her voice had taken on a softer tone, the cadence of it matching with the ebbs of power she was sending into him. “Nell. My name is Nell, well, Tirnel, but I don’t expect anyone to call me that. And to answer your question, yes. Does it bother you?”

He didn’t answer right away, focused as he was on the relief that he was finally feeling. He could still feel the pain, a barely there twinge in the back of his skull, but he felt better when she pulled her hands away.

Opening his eyes, he couldn’t help smiling at her curious expression. “No. Contrary to what Varric might think, I do know how to handle a woman’s interest.”

She settled next to him, her lips twitching into a smile. “By blushing and stuttering?”

He scowled at the idea, mostly because it did seem to describe how he acted around her. “No.”

"Because you do."

"That is not how I normally react."

Her smile widened and she leaned back on her hands. “So it’s just me than.”

The blushing he had just sworn against made another appearance as he realized what he had said. “I don’t- I, uh…” He blew out a breath and looked away when she let out a soft laugh.

"I should get back to work."

She reached out a hand to his arm when he made to stand, and when he looked back she wore a look of apology, though her eyes were still bright with humor. “Forgive me, Commander. I can’t seem to help myself. Please stay. I really would like to get to know more about you.”

He studied her a moment before settling back again, admitting silently to himself that he really didn’t have much of a urge to replace her company with his mens’.

"Very well, what would you like to know?"


	7. Awkward

She glared at the circle mage for a good thirty seconds, hating everything about everything that came out of her mouth, before finally replying.

"I appreciate that you want to help us, Lady Vivienne, and I am also trying my best to respect you for being so firm in your ideals… but I don’t like you."

The woman stared down at her, somehow making her expression both pitying and condescending at the same time. ”I hope I will be able to live through such disregard. Now off with you, Darling, you are looking very tired. Perhaps you should rest?”

Nell was very sure she growled before stalking to the door of the Chantry.

Stupid, preening… Orlesian.

"Is everything alright?"

A hand landed above hers on the wood of the door, pushing it open before she had the chance, she looked up at it then followed the arm it was attached to until she got to Commander Cullen’s curious face.

She waited until they had stepped outside before answering him, her hands making fists in her hair a moment. ”I should probably let you know, so that someone is aware, I cannot promise that I won’t strangle that woman in her sleep before all of this is over.”

"Lady Vivienne?"

"Lady Vivienne, spawn of a demon, either works."

He looked back at the Chantry, a tilted smile forming. ”I find her quite refreshing myself.”

She made a sound of disgust that would probably make Cassandra proud, her arms folding over her chest as she muttered out a reply. ”She’s about as refreshing as a dragon flying out of my ass.”

She didn’t expect the laugh that followed her words. It was… adorable, like he was a teenager who had just seen someone slip in the mud. She looked back at him in time to see him swipe a hand over his mouth, a cough coming out in some wasted attempt to distract from the sound.

"My apologies, Herald. I just… didn’t expect that mental image."

Mythal preserve her, it wasn’t fair. How was she supposed to focus on the job at hand when she knew that he existed? That he laughed like that? All she wanted now was to know how she could get him to do it again.

"Not-not that I was picturing anything about your… um…That is-"

The stutter made her smile before interrupting him. ”You’re kind of an awkward person aren’t you, Commander.”

He blushed at the observation and looked away, his hand coming up to rub at his neck in a way she had learned meant he was embarrassed. ”Not usually.”

"Somehow I don’t believe that. Don’t worry though, I think I like it. However, I should warn you, if you ever snort with your laugh I will be forced to… what is it you Chantry people call it- ah, yes, marry you."

His blush deepened, and his hand stayed at his neck, but his eyes turned back to her, interest evident. ”Is that not what the Dalish do?”

She shook her head and dropped her arms to her sides. ”No, well, we don’t call it that. We have a Joining ceremony and whatnot, but it wouldn’t work for you, not being Dalish and all. Besides, I couldn’t see you running around in the forest. You might get twigs in your hair and then where would we be?”

She gave him a friendly pat on the arm as he lowered it. ”So it would have to be marrying.”

"That is good to know, My Lady."

"But you don’t have to worry about it as long as you never snort."

He stared at her for a few seconds before speaking again. ”I will keep that in mind.”

His voice was low enough and his gaze serious enough that she shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks growing warm, and gave a laugh of her own, though it was a weak, nervous thing.

When had he gotten the upper hand?

She gave a shake of her head, her hands automatically reaching to where the staff on her back would be even when she should have remembered that it wasn’t there.

Grasping air, she made a point to not look back at him and the small smile that she just knew would be there.

"Right, well, I’m sure you need to get back to work."

She took a deliberate step away from him but paused when he spoke again.

"Herald."

Still not meeting his gaze, she half turned to stare at the tents that were behind him. ”Yes?”

"It seems you are a bit awkward also."

She grumbled some reply that had his smile widening, not that she was paying attention to it out of the corner of her eye, before turning to walk away.

Creators, she didn’t want to think about the fact that he might be right.


	8. I'm Sorry

"They are getting better."

The words drew his attention to his side where the Herald stood. He hadn't heard her come up, but he wasn't surprised. She had come to him earlier in the week with concerns about her fighting. She had never fought Templars before, had never really fought anything before, and she wanted to work on it before she had to head to the Hinterlands once Scout Harding finally reported in.

So she had been there everyday since, sparing with Lysette for the better part of the morning before announcing, like dwarven clockwork, that she was going to take a nap. After which she would disappear until dinner.

He wasn't sure if she actually napped, but her fighting was getting better, and Lysette was surprisingly positive about letting a mage lob fireballs at her face for hours.

What did surprise him was that she was still there after her morning training, sweat still visible on her face and her hair plastered to her brow, when she usually spoke to him before starting at all. She leaned against her staff, smiling, as she watched the recruits fighting around them.

"Yes, they are."

She shifted her gaze to him, curious, as he called out to one of the fighters to adjust his sword grip. "I wanted to talk to you."

He noted another recruit who was showing particular promise before returning his attention to her. "Yes, My Lady?"

"I've talked to Lysette about it, but she simply shrugged and said to ask you."

"Oh?"

She shifted to face him more fully, her smile still in place. "I was curious as to if you, as Templars, have a block for multiple attacks."

He could feel his brows lower in confusion. "You mean when we fight multiple mages at once?"

"No. When one mage sends more than one bolt at a time from different directions. Like this."

She stepped back, her staff lifting and falling in a lazy movement, sending a volley of three orange orbs at him from either side and above.

He wasn't really sure what happened after that. He knew that he blocked one of the orbs with the shield in his hand while the others hit his armor with soft thuds, and his attention narrowed down to himself and the dull glow they left on his arm and shoulder. There wasn't any real energy behind them, of course there wasn't, they were hardly more than lights, but when he focused back on the world around him he realized that he had drawn his sword and had it half raised at the mage in front of him.

She was staring at him wide eyed, her staff tilted across her as if she was going to block his attack. He cursed under his breath at the sight of it and turned away from her, his sword arm dropping to his side.

He could feel his heart beating too hard in his chest, his breath rushing painfully past his throat. He counted to ten, then did so again before turning back to her and watching as she carefully attached her staff to her back, almost as if she was afraid to move to quickly.

"My Lady, I apologize. You took me by surprise." He ground the words out before re-sheathing his sword, his newly free hand coming up to rub over his temple and the scramble of thoughts that rioted there.

"Commander, I-"

He cut her words off with a gesture, before flexing his fingers around the strap of his shield. "I really need to get back to the recruits."

He turned away from her again, even as his body screamed not to turn his back on her, and forced straining muscles to stay still until he finally heard her move away.

It was hours later before he saw her again. He had settled at a corner table in the tavern, the steaming bowl of stew that sat before him doing it's best to tempt his appetite, even as his head reminded him that it had other plans.

He had just decided to give up on dinner when a shadow fell over the table. He looked up to see the Herald standing behind the other chair. She was dressed in a loose top and breeches, her weapon nowhere in sight, and her hands were clasped in front of her.

He wondered if this was her attempt to not look intimidating.

When he started to speak she held up her hands then pulled out the chair to slide into it.

"Don't say anything. I have a hard enough time with this kind of thing as it is. I wanted to apologize for earlier."

"You don't-"

"I do. I never should have done that. I was still in fighting mode, and I should have told you what I meant instead of simply attacking you. It was wrong and I apologize. I don't think sometimes… I'm trying to be better about it."

He stared at her a moment, the worry clear on her face, like she thought he might chastise her. Instead he shook his head.

"My Lady, you have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I'm the commander of our forces and I shouldn't react so blindly." He rolled his spoon around in his hand a moment before continuing, his gaze moving to the fire. "There are things I have been-"

"Stop." She lifted her hands again, drawing his attention back to her. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. It's obviously something that makes you uncomfortable, and I promise I'll try not to put you in such a position again." She dropped her hands to her lap and sent him a tentative smile. "So… that's all I wanted to say. I understand if you don't want me around anymore. I can find somewhere else to practice of a morning."

He blinked at her, thoughts jumbling a moment before he realized what she was saying. "No, no of course not, My Lady. You need others there to let you know what needs to be worked on."

Her smile widened a bit, and she held a hand out to him. "So we forgive each other, since we both seem so set on apologizing?"

He studied her hand, unease tickling the back of his mind that he forced himself to ignore. He would do better, he would. Finally, he lifted his hand and took hers, noting the callouses on her palm before they shook once and she pulled away. "Of course."

She tilting her head to side, apparently still tentative. "Would you mind if I joined you for dinner?"

"I would…" He trailed off, but forced himself to continue. She had made a step towards at least a comfortable comradery, one that didn't involve telling him how pretty he was, and he had no real reason, besides old hatreds, to rebuff her. "I would like that."

She smiled again before stating that she would be right back and stood to find her own bowl of food.


	9. Do You Want to Feel It?

"Do you want to feel it?"

The question came on the heels of his own inquiry about what the mark on the Herald’s hand felt like.

He hadn’t actually meant to ask.  He had simply been curious when she had taken her gloves off to itch at the skin of her palm, and his attention had been drawn down to the jagged green line that marred the skin there.

It didn’t look as he had expected, not that he knew what he had been expecting.  It was thin and ragged looking, like a wound from a poorly held dagger, and the faint green light from it was barely enough to light the skin around it.

He remembered Cassandra’s claim that it seemed to grow and pulse when the Herald was near a rift, the light of it overwhelming, but it was hard to reconcile that description with the pitiful slash that he was faced with.

So he had been distracted and apparently couldn’t help himself but to ask what it felt like.

He looked back up to her face at the question and the far too amused smile that played there.  He thought perhaps he should say no and focus back on the recruits that were training around him, but he saw the challenge in her eyes, the almost knowing look that said she didn’t think he would take up the offer, and knew that turning away wasn’t an option.

He ignored the skitter of nerves down his back as some small part of his mind reminded him that the mark was magic and magic could not be trusted and sent the Elven woman a nod.

"Alright."

He lifted his hands to remove his own gloves and blinked then jerked back when she bypassed his arms and stepped closer to him instead, her hands reaching up to apparently cup his face.

She chuckled at the movement, her hands stilling, and tilted her head as her smile widened.  ”No need to be afraid, Commander.  I won’t let it eat you.”

He scowled at the jest and made himself stand still as she rested her palms against his cheeks.  The first thing he noticed was the cool dryness of her skin as it curved around his own, her fingers tickling at the rough stubble of his jaw as they curled in.  Next he noticed how close she was standing, the edges of her armor brushing against his shins and the faintest feel of the air stirring around his chin with her breath as she looked up at him.

He felt the beginnings of a flush working its way up his neck so he forced himself to focus instead on the faint buzzing that he could feel under her left palm.  It felt… well, he couldn’t explain how it felt.  Strange, yes, but not painful and not entirely unpleasant.  He wasn’t sure he could put it into words.

Finally she stepped back, her hands dropping from him, and making him suddenly realize that he had brought his own hand up to cup her marked one.

When had he done that?

Dropping his hand awkwardly to his side, he tried to think of a way to apologize for the fact that he had practically been holding her hand, but when he did speak again stuttered words of being sorry weren’t what came out.

"Why, um, why wouldn’t my hand have sufficed to feel it?"

She sent him a shrug as she pulled her gloves back, her gaze steady on his for a moment before she replied.  ”Because I wanted to touch your face.  I’ve been wondering if you could possibly be real and now I know.”

He could feel the bright heat engulf his face at her words, and he reached up to rub at his neck as he tried to formulate a reply.

"You’re blushing, Commander."

He knew he was, he could feel it getting even worse, couldn’t he?  His hand stayed at his neck and he looked away from her with a nervous laugh.  ”Yes-um, well… I should… I should really get back to work.”

"Of course.  Let me know if you want to feel anything else on me, I’ll be happy to oblige."

The sound of her laughter covered his own sputters as she turned to walk away.


	10. An Itch

“Giving up already, Herald?”

The words were amused, light, and Nell couldn’t help making a face at them as she shifted her head around so that she could see the grinning visage of Lysette beside her.

They had been sparring, a regular occurrence when Nell was back from being in the field and in Haven for more than a few days.  She had needed experience fighting Templars and the young woman had, reluctantly, agreed when her help had been suggested by the commander.

She had warmed up to it, to Nell, over the course of their working together and, finally, they were at a place where joking was easy and Nell had no problem tumbling to the ground in a dramatic fashion when she was tired and done with fighting.

Which was why they now found themselves with her sprawled out  and Lysette above her.

“My arm hurts,” Nell explained, making the templar’s grin widen.  It wasn’t untrue, it was sore, but they both knew that she could have kept going if she really wanted to.

She didn’t

She was tired.

She was always tired.

Nothing new there, but it did make things difficult when people were increasingly hunting her down and wanting her to do things.

Lysette reached out a hand to pull her up, then stepping back as Nell swatted at the dirt that clung to her robe.

“You barely made it half an hour.  How is it you haven’t died in the field yet?”

“A superior ability to get others to fight for me while I stand and watch in the background?”  Nell smiled and shrugged as she spoke and Lysette shook her head in response.

“That must be it.  Our hero.  Same time tomorrow then?”

Nell mumbled agreement and waved the hand that wasn’t holding her staff as Lysette gave a short bow and went to rejoin her comrades in their training.  Left to herself, Nell turned a circle until she caught sight of Cullen at the far end of the training field, his back to her and his shoulders too straight as he barked some order to one of the new recruits.

She felt herself smile as she started towards him, plans of a nap moving to the back of her mind, unless she could talk him into taking a nap with her…

The smile turned into a laugh at the impossibility of that.  She could just imagine asking and him turning bright red before stuttering something out about needing to work and naps not being an appropriate use of time.

He needed to learn how to relax.

“Any more problems with people mixing up the pointy ends with the handles,” she called out, expression friendly when Cullen turned around to look at her.  He gave a tilted half smile and looked back at the fighters again as she came to a stop beside him.

“That was only one person, and it was nearly two weeks ago.”

“But it’s still funny.”

He shook his head and shifted to angle towards her.  “Varric never should have told you about it.  You’re done earlier than usual.”

She gave a shrug and the movement caused the sweat sticky skin of her back to stretch and start to itch as it rubbed under her clothing.  “My arm hurts.”

He gave a hum that could have meant anything from agreement to disbelief and looked away to shout at someone.

She rolled her shoulders again in a useless attempt to ease the irritation between her shoulder blades and frowned when it gave no relief.  She stood still for a moment in hopes of willing it away before giving an irritated huff and unwrapping her belt so she could pull her outer robe off.

Free of the heavy leather, she reached an arm back to scratch her back, her fingers scrambling along the linen of her undershirt in hopes of pulling themselves closer to where the itch was the worst at the center.

Nell gave a muted growl of frustration when she couldn’t quite reach and started to look around for a post or something she could use as a back scratch when she felt the pressure of fingers just below hers, blunt nails digging in just slightly as they moved back and forth over her skin.

She sighed and dropped her arm, her back arching into the assistance and her eyes closing as the fingers worked over her back in efficient scratches before pulling away.

Blinking her eyes open, she glanced back just in time to see Cullen pulling his glove back on, his eyes curious.  “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Nothing worse than an itch you can’t reach,” he stated, a friendly smile working its way across his face as he looked down at her, and she found herself nodding in response.

“I can’t imagine trying to scratch your back with all that armor you wear,” she replied and he laughed before giving a shrug of his own.

“I get by.”

They stared at each other another moment before she pulled her robe back on and made a vague gesture towards the recruits.  “Well, I’ll let you get back to work, and find myself a hiding spot before Cassandra hunts me down and has something for me to do.  Thank you again for the assistance.”

“I was glad I could help, My Lady.”

She found herself nodding and starting to walk away before she realized there was no way she could simply leave it at that. So she turned to call out to him then waited until his eyes met hers again.

“I’ll let you know if I have any other itches that need scratching, Commander.”

He stared at her for several seconds before giving a stuttered laugh and reaching up to rub at his neck.  “Alright.”

“And, please, let me know if there are any I can help you with.  Any type of itch at all.”

He looked away, his mouth opening on an inarticulate noise before he waved her off.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Oh please do, she thought, turning away from him again, scratching itches could be a great deal of fun.


	11. Stories and Crowns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt from ciribi
> 
> Cullen goes in search of the Inquisitor

One day Cullen was going to learn to say no when Cassandra asked him to go and find the herald.

One day that apparently wasn’t today since he was, once again, heading down the steps and towards the woods that surrounded the town that she liked to disappear into when she was annoyed with the seeker, or Leliana, or himself.

He stopped short just outside the gate, however, when he noticed the small gaggle of children standing by the rock outcrop near the training yard and soldier tents.

Taking a moment to register their laughter, he started to walk past them when he noticed a few run out of the trees and towards the group, their arms filled with piles of green and white.

Focusing on what they were doing, he watched as they dumped their armloads at the feet of someone that was sitting on a rock facing away from him.

Someone with red hair and pointed ears.

The inquisitor.

He bit back a sigh, because of course she wouldn’t be somewhere easy for him to get her away from, and started towards her.

“Sylaise, being a goddess of healing, wanted to cheer the woman up,” he heard her saying, her voice amused as the children sitting and standing around her stared on wide eyed. “She plucked a dead flower from the snow and breathed life into it, creating the first Snowdrop.”

She was staring down at her lap as she spoke, her fingers working the stems of small white flowers into and around each other, creating a delicate weave.

“Seeing the flower, the woman smiled because she realized then that beauty could continue even in the most desolate of conditions, and if that was true then hope could as well.”

As she finished the story she lifted the flowers, showing that she had fashioned them into a crown, and set them on the head of the small girl in front of her. “And now you can remember it also, Hannah.”

The girl, Hannah, beamed at her as she stood to make room for the next child to take her spot. “Is that true, Nell?”

Cullen couldn’t see her face, but he could see her shoulders lift in a shrug. “Maybe.”

“But the Chantry says that the only god is the Maker,” a taller boy in the back interrupted.

“And the Chantry has that right,” Nell replied, her voice tight a moment before she shifted her attention to the boy who had taken Hannah’s spot. “What story would you like, Micah?”

He was surprised that she knew their names. She didn’t seem the type to care about such things, but then again she also didn’t seem the type to sit in a group of children and weave flowers together for their hair.

He should probably stop being surprised by the things he found out about her.

Not wanting her to get started on another story, he stepped forward and cleared his throat until Nell looked over her shoulder to him. He watched annoyance flash over her face even as he stepped closer before she smothered it with a raise of her brow.

“My lady, Cassandra asked me to come and-“

“Would you like a crown, Commander?”

The interruption threw him, and he blinked at her before clearing his throat again. “Excuse me?”

Nell lifted the flowers she was already starting to weave together so that he could get a better look. “Would you like a crown?”

“Herald, I don’t think-“

“I’m not coming with you unless you let me give you a flower crown,” she stated, smiling as she spoke. It was a challenging smile, one that said she didn’t think he would take her up on the offer.

Cullen wanted to tell her no, that the idea of a flower crown was completely ridiculous. But he still hadn’t quite learned how to back down from a challenge, and he had no desire to listen to Cassandra complain when he came back without the herald in tow.

So he blew out a short breath and went to sit down in the spot that Micah had vacated, his armor straps creaking as he settled cross legged on the ground in front of her.

“If someone sees me here like this they are going to think I’ve lost my mind.”

She wasn’t looking at him, her attention back on her hands and the quick movement of her fingers as she continued the flower chain she had started. “Maybe they will just think that their commander is the type of person to entertain children.”

He glanced around at the young faces that surrounded them, smiles and chatter filling his senses before he looked back to see a similar smile on Nell’s face.

“That doesn’t really instill a sense of command.”

“No, but it does make you more of a person.”

“Is that important?”

Her smile widened, catching the sarcasm in his voice, and she looked up as she tied the ends of the chain together. “When I go back with you to meet Cassandra, do I have to act like I care?”

He couldn’t help smiling back, his fingers flexing a moment as he imagined catching her face with them and covering her grinning mouth with his own.

Dangerous thoughts.

He was in no position to even contemplate a relationship with anyone, least of all the herald of Andraste herself.

“Yes.”

Nell gave a dramatic sigh and reached out to settle the circle of Snowdrops on his head, her hands lingering a moment to make sure it fell correctly against his hair. “Fine, but I refuse to act like I’m happy about it.”

“We can probably work with that.”

They smiled at each other for several seconds before Cullen heard snickers breaking out around them.

Remembering the children, he glanced around at them before muttering something about needing to get back.

Standing, he offered a slight bow to Nell as she told him that she would follow along shortly.

He hesitated a moment then stepped out of the group and back onto the road.

Reason reinserting itself as he walked back to the gate that lead into the town, and he reached up to pull the flowers from his hair, the petals crushing in his fist, causing the honey smell of them to drift out and around him.

Dangerous thoughts. Impossible ones. But he tucked the half destroyed crown into his vest anyway, knowing he would find a way to save it later.


End file.
